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Gold  Gathered  Armfuls  of  Short  Stemmed   Flowerettes. 


by 

DAVID  PATRICK  MacMILLAN 

Author 

That  Little  Pongee  Gown 


With  Illustrations 

and  Decorations 

by 

AILLEEN  PHILLIPS 


PRESS  OF 

THE  TUCKER  PRINTING  HOUSE 

Jackson,  Mississippi 

19  14 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://archive.org/details/keepmymoneyOOmacm 


ah 

Stye  Itortnr,  SJtta,  ptit£, 


"And  what's  this  creature  that  we 
call  a  child? 

And  what's  this  winged  thing 
men  call  a  heart? 

These  radiant  beings  that  have 
no  wish  at  all, 

Save  for  what  is  all  beautif uL 

These  miraculous  ones  like  gold- 
en creatures  made  of  sunset 
cloud* — 

I  love  them  all*  They  are  the 
greatest  miracles  I  know/' 


MY  VANISHED  LIGHT 


"I  had  a  little  candle  whose  soft 

glow 
"Was  the  chief  solace  that  my  life 

did  know, 
And  lighted  me  wherever  I  did  go. 
"I  was  a  traveler  of  bat  a  night 
Seeking  a  better  country  out  of 

sight, 
Which  lay  a  little  past  the  sunset 

light. 
"I  knew  God's  stars  were  shining 

in  His  sky 
To  pilot  pilgrims  on  their  roads, 

bat  I 
Upon  my  little  candle  did  rely. 

"But  one  sad  night  a  "Wind  whose 
name  is  Death 


Did  blow  my  candle  out  with  its 

cold  breath; 
And    if    it    was    not    Christ    of 

Nazareth, 
'Who  spoke  to  me,  I  think  His 

Angel  said: 
'Thou  foolish  one !    The  ring  thy 

small  light  shed 
Hath  blinded  thee  to  God's  light 

overhead; 
*  'And  He  has  put  it  out  because 

its  shine 
Had  come  between  thee  and  the 

light  Divine* 
It  was  not  given  to  set  within  a 

shrine, 
'  'And  swing  thy  censer  there*    It 

was  but  meant 
To  lend  thee  cheer  and  make 

thee  more  content 
Upon  the  journey  thou  art  bent* 


"  'Oh,  child,  look  up,  not  down! 

and  thou  shalt  see 
The  little  spark  thou  lovcst  set 

for  thee 
Among    the    stars,    thy    beacon 

light  to  be/ 

"And  so,  through  storm  and  shine, 

I  follow  on; 
And  though  I  miss  my  light  where 

late  it  shone, 
I  know  'tis  best  for  me  that  it 
is  gone* 

"But  every  night  I  make  the  same 

request: 
'Lord,  lead  me  to  my  star  when 

it  is  best, 
And  let  me  wear  it  on  my  longing 

breast/  " 


CONTENTS 


Chapter*  Page* 

I*    Mary-Gold 13 

II.  "Oh,    Memories    that 

Bless  and  Burn!" 19 

IIL    The  Acrostic. 39 

IV*    In  Nature's  Garden. 47 

V*    Night 55 

VI.  What  the  Angels  Said     67 

VII.     Memoria  in  Aeterna 15 

VIII.    Hope 83 

IX.    Heart  to  Heart 93 

X.    The  Little  Mother 99 

XI.    Auguste. 107 

XII.    The  Fulfillment 113 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Gold     gathered   armfals  of  short 
stemmed  flowerettes* 

— Frontispiece. 

Echoes    clear    and    sweet    stole 
through  the  dreary  walls. 

"  Why  don't  Miss  Mary  tell  all  the 
Mammas  'boat  Jestts?" 

"Btrt  never  mind,  Moloto." 

"Oh,    zee    here    now,    Mistress 
Merry-Gouldt" 


11 


I 


MARY-GOLD 


I 


"Winking  Mary-buds  begin  to  ope  their 
golden  eyes." 

She  was  the  pet  of  the  whole 
College — this  little  Mary-Gold.  So 
like  King  Midas'  elfish  daughter 
that  it  seemed  the  mystic  Haw- 
thorne had  met  her  in  some  pre- 
existent  world,  his  creation,  fanci- 
ful though  it  is,  being  a  veritable 
prototype  of  this  truly  live  little 
maid.  Too,  like  the  maiden  in  the 
Golden  Touch,  "she  was  one  of 
the  cheerfulest  little  people  whom 
you  would  see  in  a  summer's  day 
and  hardly  shed  a  thimbleful  of 
tears  in  a  twelve-month/'  "Sweet 
Fern/'   "Dandelion"   and    "Cow- 

15 


slip"  would  have  embraced  as 
their  own,  this  winsome  little 
creature* 

Nor  was  she  unlike  her  noble 
clanswoman,  Mary-Goldie,  the 
great-great-grand-daughter  of  Bon 
nie  Annie  Laurie  of  the  famous 
Scottish  song*  This  Cameronian 
beauty  with  "the  kindly  perfume 
of  the  heather  clinging  to  her  very 
soul"  seemed  indeed  another  fit 
herald  of  this  tiny  off-shoot,  calling 
way  down  across  the  centuries  to 
her  little  merry  -  hearted  kins- 
woman* 

Early  one  autumn  morning,  just 
five  short  years  before,  there  was 
ushered  in  such  a  flood  of  joy  and 
sunshine  that  for  very  gladness 
she  was  called  Mary-Gold*  Mary 
for  the  dear  Aunt  away  over  in  the 


Far  East,  and,  because  God's  sun- 
light seemed  caught  in  the  soft 
meshes  of  her  rich  brown  hair, 
she  was  christened  Gold  while  the 
prayer  was  breathed: 
"Give  her,  I  pray,  all  good;  bid  all 

the  buds  of  pleasure  grow 
To  perfect  flowers  of  happiness 
where* er  her  feet  may  go; 
Bid   Truth's    bright    shield    and 

Love's  strong  arm 
Protect  her  from  all  earthly  harm* 

"Lest  there  should  be  some  other 

thing  better  than  all  the  rest, 
That  I  have  failed  to  ask,  give 

Thou  the  very  best 
Of  every  gift,  what  Thou  dost 

deem 
Better    than    aught    I    hope    or 

dream/' 


17 


II 

"Oh,  Memories  That 


II 

The  little  life  seemed  lent  but 
for  a  night,  a  glint  of  gold  gleaming 
through  earthborn  darkness*  Per- 
ilous had  been  the  sailing  of  this 
tiny  craft  encountering  more  than 
once  direful  collisions  sometimes 
threatening  complete  and  most 
disastrous  shipwreck* 

On  that  October  morning,  yel- 
low with  goldenrod  and  sunshine 
Aunt  Toodie,  catching  in  her  arms 
the  beautiful  three-year-old.  little 
dreamed  the  rebellion  she  incited 
as  she  jubilantly  whispered, 

"My  young  man,  your  nose  is 
broken!" 

Clapping  his  chubby  hand  to  the 
berated    organ  and  finding    it    in 

21 


statu     quot     insulted     Childhood 
fiercely  retor ted, 

"My  nose  ain't  boke!" 

"Ah,  but  it  is,"  she  laughingly 
mocked*  "In  yonder  room  is  a 
little  girl  who  has  broken  your 
nose  square  in  two!" 

This  called  for  reasoning  of  a 
higher  nature*  It  was  beyond  his 
ken* 

His  nose  was  not  broken*  That 
he  knew*  But  there  was  a  mystery 
somewhere* 

Baffled,  he  would  appeal  to  an- 
other tribunal,  his  natural  umpire* 

"Down!  Lemme  down!"  he 
screamed,  and  with  fast  flying  feet 
he  ran  to  the  darkened  chamber 
rushing  headlong  into  Nurse's 
arms* 


22 


"I  want  my  Mamma!  I  want  my 
Mamma!"  he  demanded* 

"H-u-s-h  !"  cautioned  Nurse, 
lifting  her  finger.  "Be  quiet,  and 
I'll  show  you  something  pretty," 
as  gathering  in  her  arms  the  dis- 
comfited little  fellow,  she  carried 
him  to  the  Mother's  bedside* 

But  the  vision  of  arrogant 
Assumption  nestling  beside  the 
sleeping  Mother  failed  to  inspire 
in  the  breast  of  this  bewildered 
lordling  feelings  of  admiration  or 
love.  The  very  sight  of  the  Sup- 
planter  serenely  slumbering  in  his 
rightful  domain  was  too  much! 
Such  outrageous  usurpation  was 
more  than  the  displaced  monarch 
could  stand.  He  would  have  his 
Kingdom  back  by  fair  means  or 
foul. 


33 


When  young  Jason  sallied  forth 
to  restore  the  Kingdom  of  Iolchos 
and  to  hurl  from  the  throne  King 
Pelias,  the  wicked  usurper,  he  car- 
ried with  him  two  spears,  one  in 
each  hand* 

But  this  Prince  Royal,  disgusted 
and  outraged  by  the  suffragette 
indignity,  provided  himself  with 
quite  another  sort  of  weapon* 

Scrambling  down  and  slipping 
away  with  never  so  much  as  a 
word  from  his  disgruntled  Majes- 
ty he  armed  himself  with  Daddy's 
Rigi  stick — in  its  youth  the  stay  of 
slipping  feet  on  the  hazardous 
Alpine  climbs,  but  now  no  longer 
the  preserver  of  life  but  a  distinct 
harbinger  of  complete  and  immi- 
nent annihilation.     Creeping  back, 

24 


all  aflame  with  fury  he  raised  the 
heavy  stick  above  the  guileless 
Innovation,  his  childish  and  un- 
reasonable rage  finding  vent  as  he 
fairly  screeched  aloud, 

"I  bake  oo  noset  oo  itter  dirl!" 

And  down  upon  the  dimpled 
face  the  impending  blow  started, 
to  be  caught  just  in  time  by  the 
watchful  nurse  who  received  upon 
her  own  outstretched  arm  the 
force  of  concentrated  wrath. 

The  fragile  barque  met  with  an- 
other unfriendly  wave  when  this 
lad  of  the  broken  nose,  now  grown 
to  the  dignity  of  six  full  years, 
entertained  notions  of  becoming  a 
Doctor  of  Physic* 

It  was  the  afternoon  that  Uncle 
and  Aunt  Joyner,  just  home  from 

25 


Whanghein,  went  to  the  Chapel  to 
tell  of  their  life  in  China*  The 
children  were  left  alone  to  play  in 
the  Nursery*  The  six-year-old* 
having  heard  Uncle  tell  of  his  call 
to  the  Mission  field,  suddenly  felt 
a  summons  himself,  most  peremp- 
tory in  its  demand* 

Cautious  Aunt  Joyner  had  for- 
gotten to  put  away  her  bottle  of 
chamomilla!  This  young  disciple 
of  Aesculapius  seized  Opportunity 
with  eager  grasp  and  just  at  this 
juncture,  for  all  things  were  con- 
spiring for  the  youthful  practition- 
er, Jim — the  China  baby — bereft, 
sent  up  a  wail* 

The  lad,  answering  his  "call," 
clear  and  imperative  straightway 

26 


prescribed*  Two  patients,  of 
coarse,  being  better  than  one  the 
"itter  dirl"  was  joyously  included* 
Again  and  again  did  the  aspiring 
M.  D*  administer  the  sugared 
prescripts  as  little  Gold  proudly 
devoured  the  Chamomilla  pellets* 
Harmless  enough  if  taken  with 
care,  but  alas!  like  the  Siren's 
song  their  alluring  sweetness 
evoked  a  craving  that  could  be 
satisfied  only  by  repeated  doses* 
For  three  whole  days  the  soft 
glow  of  the  little  Light  waned, 
growing  fainter  and  fainter,  until 
it  seemed  the  fitful  Gleam  was 
doomed  to  darkness  by  youthful 
Indiscretion* 

After  hours  of  anguished  combat 
triumphant    Allopathy    saved    the 


27 


day  giving  back  the  vanishing 
Light  to  a  solemn,  sobered  aspir- 
ant in  the  realm  of  Homeopathy. 

As  the  months  went  by  nothing 
so  delighted  Gold  as  her  visits 
with  Grand  to  the  County  Farm 
where  she  was  greeted  as  the  Sun- 
shine Scatterer* 

The  sweet  solicitude  of  this  little 
personage  for  Grandma  Palmer, 
bed-ridden  and  helpless,  was  far 
beyond  the  years  of  a  child* 

Tenderly  the  baby  hand  lay  on 
the  old  lady's  brow*  And  lady 
Grandma  Palmer  was,  to  her  very 
finger  tips  —  refined,  educated, 
gentle*  Driven  to  this  refuge  solely 
from  illness  brought  on  because 
those  arms  upon  which  the  delicate 

28 


spirit  rightly  dared  to  lean  had  re- 
fused both  love  and  prop* 

Fondly  she  gazed  upon  the  child- 
woman  claiming  as  the  visit  would 
close  one  of  Gold's  favorite  mel- 
odies* 

Perched  upon  an  upturned  box 
with  the  small  hands  clasped  sat 
the  dainty  figure,  and  as  that 
far-away  look  crept  into  the 
dark  eyes*  the  lips  parted  and 
echoes  clear  and  sweet  stole 
through  the  dreary  walls* 

"If  we  knew  de  baby  fingers 
P'essed  against  de  window-pane 
Would  be  cold  and  stiff  termorwo 
Never  kubble  us  again!" 

When  Grandma  Palmer  and 
Gold's     other     charge,     Cripple 

29 


Auguste,  were  brought  to  live  in 
a  comfortable  two-roomed  hut  near 
the  College,  Gold's  chiefest  joy 
was  to  make  merry  with  bright, 
sweet  songs  the  quiet  room  bring- 
ing cheer  to  the  empty,  aching 
hearts  of  these  two — God's  cast- 
aways* 

"Wherever  her  little  feet  did  go 
there  followed  joy  and  sunlight. 

Never  was  she  dearer  than  while 
making  her  sales  to  Baylor  girls* 

Down  the  long  corridor  she 
tripped,  the  cunning  figure  ar- 
rayed in  a  big-flowered  Green- 
away,  swinging  in  her  hand  a 
Roman  purse,  while  from  her  arm 
hung  a  basket  of  tempting  dainties* 
Very  proud  she  was  of  this  silken, 

30 


\. 


r 


Echoes  Clear  and  Sweet  Stole  Through  the  Dreary  Walls 


striped  pouch,  with  its  secret  open- 
ing and  its  trip  across  the  ocean* 

"Pardie,"  she  said  one  day  to  a 
Baylor  girl,  "I'm  going  to  give  you 
a  lesson  in  stew'tchip*  My  Mam- 
ma's been  telling  me  'bout  fings 
and  I've  got  to  get  to  work* 
It'll  take  lots  of  money  to  do  what 
I'm  finking  to  myself  'bout/' 

And  thus  did  the  Child  prattle 
away  as  she  counted  from  her 
afternoon's  earnings  "five  whole 
pennies"  for  Pardie  herself  to 
invest. 

There  was  no  resisting  the  earn- 
est pleading  of  this  winsome  voice* 
It  even  pierced  the  agnosticism  of 
the  once  brilliant  John  Farrington* 
Having  once  enlisted  your  sympa- 

31 


thy,  adamant  indeed  was  the  heart 
that  could  refuse  the  Child's  en- 
treaties* 

One  bright  May  morning  with 
the  church  bells  ringing  their 
pleading,  "Come!"  the  skeptic  was 
passing  down  the  street  when  sud- 
denly he  felt  drawn  to  enter*  Not 
for  ten  years  had  he  been  in  a 
church  of  any  sort.  In  his  early 
manhood  he  had  sneeringly 
scoffed  at  religion  and  all  things 
holy  and  sacred,  and  just  when  he 
was  carrying  everything  before 
him  he  was  brought  to  a  halt — 
paralyzed!  Changed  in  the  twink- 
ling of  an  eye  from  a  powerful 
magnet  to  a  helpless  dependent* 

On  this  Holy  Sabbath  against 
his  will  as  it  were,  he  was  led  into 


32 


the  Sunday-School  room  to  a  seat 
by  Mary-Gold.  When  the  hymn 
was  given  out  with  the  air  of 
the  mother  she  was  unconsciously 
copying,  she  handed  him  a  book. 
Tall  and  big  as  he  was  he  did  not 
see  her  thoughtful  courtesy  and 
not  until  she  had  pulled  vigorously 
at  his  sleeve  did  he  notice  her. 

John  Farrington  did  not  like 
children,  but  as  his  half -darkened 
eyes  rested  upon  the  sweet  face 
uplifted  to  his  the  stern  features 
relaxed  and  bending  down,  he 
said, 

"I  can't  see." 

"Your  eyes  are  open!  Why 
don't  you  look?" 

The  Child  spoke  with  a  deeper 
meaning  than  she  knew. 

33 


"You  are  too  little  to  under- 
stand," he  said*  And  then  tried 
to  explain  that  the  "optic  nerve 
was  hart"  and  that  he  could  hardly 
see  to  walk*  With  teardrops  in  her 
voice  she  looked  up  and  said. 
"I'm  so  sorry  for  you*"  Then 
quick  as  a  flash  she  climbed  up  on 
a  level  with  his  broad  shoulders 
and  putting  her  mouth  close  to  his 
ear,  whispered, 

"If  you'll  come  to  my  house 
every  Sunday  my  Mamma'll  teach 
you  the  lesson  with  me*" 

And  he  promised  to  come! 

Every  Sunday  afternoon  for  five 
long  years  the  solitary  figure  was 
seen  slowly  wending  its  way  to 
little  Gold's  house  where  he  lis- 

34 


tened  to  the  Bible  read  and  studied* 
Four  more  years  passed.  And 
then!  One  sweet  soft  day  God's 
people  gathered  on  the  river's 
brink  to  see  the  stately  form  of 
CoL  Farrington,  one-time  scoffer, 
buried  in  baptism  with  his  chosen 
Lord  and  Master*  And  who  shall 
say  that  a  Baby  spirit  was  not  wit- 
nessing from  an  Unseen  Shore? 

Verily,  "a  little  child  shall  lead 
them!" 

A  very  spirit  she  seemed  in 
human  guise*  A  ray  of  joyous 
sunlight  ready  and  anxious  to  do 
somebody  a  favor  even  trying  to 
help  at  the  Story-hour* 

''Now,  Mamma,"  she  exclaimed 
one  evening  after  the  usual  Snow- 
White,   Hop-o'- my -Thumb,    and 

35 


Goldilocks'  recital,  "I'll  tell  you  a 
story/' 

"And  what  about?"  asked  the 
Mother  just  as  Hester  Prynne  had 
asked  of  little  Pearl*  It  was  in- 
deed a  story  about  a  Man  but  not 
the  Black  Man  of  Pearl's  freakish 
imagination  who  haunted  the  for- 
est and  carried  a  book  with  him 
for  people  to  write  their  names  with 
their  own  blood.  Snuggling  up 
close,  Gold  began: 

"Once  upon  a  time  a  little  girl 
went  into  the  woods  and  was  pick- 
ing up  bones  and  horns  to  put  in 
her  basket  when  a  big  old  bear 
came  and  like  to  eat  her  up*  But 
a  good  man  and  a  bad  man  came* 
And  the  good  man  caught  her  and 
saved  her  and  took  her  home  to  be 

36 


his  own  little   daughter*     Wasn't 
gat  awful,  Mamma?" 

"Terrible!"  replied  the  Mother. 
"What  was  her  name?" 

"Calla  Vivo!"  was  the  prompt 
response* 

"And  what  was  her  Papa's 
name?" 

"She  didn't  have  any  Papa* 
He  was  dead*  She  was  just  Calla 
Vivo*" 

Calla  Vivo! 

A  mysterious  symbol  of  guilt 
and  sin  was  the  scarlet  letter  bril- 
liantly embroidered  in  gold  threads 
but  a  talisman  of  purity  and  beauty 
was  Calla  Vivo — mystic  token  of  a 
Child's  fanciful  Dream* 

37 


IU 


THE 
ACROSTIC 


Ill 

"This  little  strip  of  light 
'Tvoixt  day  and  night 

Let  me  \eep  bright 
Today." 

"Oh,  Mamma/'  cried  Gold, 
running  tip  the  steps  one  evening, 
"See  what  Dr.  Hammond  made 
me!  Pin  took  me  down  to  the 
quarry  where  the  cutters  are  doing 
such  beautiful  fings*  He  says  this 
spells  my  queer  little  name*  Is 
Mary-Gold  a  queer  name,  Mam- 
ma?" And  the  Child  opened  wide 
a  gilded  box  containing  a  chain  of 
eight  letter-links  carved  from  the 
native  cream-tinted  stone*  As  she 
held  it  up  the  sun's  rays  fell 
aslant  the  ivory-colored  trinket, 
changing  it  into  ruddy  gold* 

41 


♦< 


'And  what's  this,  dearie }" 
asked  the  Mother,  lifting  oat  a 
curiously  inwrought  tablet. 

"Oh,  I  nearly  forgot*  That  tells 
all  about  my  name  and  what  I'm 
going  to  do/' 

Dr.  Hammond's  love  for  the 
Child  was  at  once  a  two-fold  bene- 
diction. To  Gold  because  of  his 
rich  and  fruitful  past  in  books  and 
journeyings;  to  him,  because  of 
the  unfaltering  flame  of  a  simple 
faith — able  to  rely  upon  and  un- 
hesitatingly appropriate  the  evi- 
dence of  things  not  seen — kept 
brilliantly  aglow  through  the  mid- 
night of  miring  doubt. 

While  he  worked  at  the  fluted 
columns  he  would  listen  to  Gold 


42 


as  she  unfolded  her  Plan  for  the 
Big  House  she  was  going  to  build 
in  China  for  "all  the  little  girls 
whose  mammas  frew  them  away*" 
In  cutting  into  the  soft  limestone 
for  the  amusement  of  the  Child 
the  scholarly  mystic  seemed  to 
catch  a  fore-shadowing  which 
presaged  to  the  mother-heart  a 
meaning  of  sadness  and  gloom* 

"Dark  and  despairing  my  sight  I 
may  seal 

But  man  can  not  cover  what  God 
would  reveal; 

*Tis  the  sunset  of  life  gives  us 
mystical  lore 

And   coming   events   cast    their 
shadows  before/' 

43 


The  far-away  look  which  had 
come  into  those  oceanic  eyes  lend- 
ing to  them  a  spirituelle  pleading 
made  girls  and  teachers  alike, 
snatch  to  their  hearts  this  bit  of 
sunshine  as  if  to  shield  her  from 
impending  Shadow.  Was  this  old 
German  scholar  indeed  and  in 
truth  a  seer?  Forced  to  quit  his 
studies  in  the  Old  World  because 
of  mental  strain  he  had  hoped  by 
his  skill  as  a  cutter  to  regain  in  the 
open  quarry  that  which  makes  life 
worth  while* 

With  quick  intuition  did  the 
Mother  catch  the  drift  of  the  mys- 
tical acrostic* 


44 


"Read  it,  Mamma,  dear,  and 
tell  me  what  it  means,"  urged  little 
Gold*  Holding  up  the  cream- 
tinted  tablet,  the  mother  read 
aloud: 

"M Minister. 

A... , Able. 

R Revealed. 

Y Youthful. 

G Gold. 

Q_ Odd. 

L Love. 

D.. Dream." 

But  its  ominous  meaning  she  kept 
to  herself. 


45 


IV 


IN  NATURE'S 
w     GARDEN 


'Why  Don't  Miss  Mary  Tell  All  the  Mammas  'Bout  Jesus?" 


IV 

The  banks  of  the  Nolan  were 
hanging  in  festoons  of  green  ferns 
and  trailing  vines*  Here  and  there 
in  some  secret  nook  was  the  state- 
ly Palm  and  growing  in  wild  pro- 
fusion the  white  Azalia,  intensely 
fragrant,  and  blooming  on  low 
trees  the  Wild  Haw  in  big  sweet- 
scented  clusters. 

The  shallow  Creek  showing  its 
white  pebbly  bed  discovered  Clam 
and  Mollusk  shell  delighting  the 
childish  fancy.  Like  a  fairy  flit- 
ting among  fields  of  Alice-blue 
Clover,  Gold  gathered  armfuls  of 
short-stemmed  flowerettes,  mak- 
ing gay  posies  of  Purple  Blossom, 
Wild  Violet,  and  Black-eyed  Su- 

49 


san*  Or  resting  on  Nature's  car- 
pet, red  with  Sweet  William  and 
Indian  Pink,  she  would  beg  for 
the  story  of  the  Baby  Tower  as 
with  chubby  hands  beneath  the 
childish  chin  she  watched  unfold 
the  delicate  leaves  of  Modest 
Primrose  whose  beauty  for  very 
shyness  hid  until  the  set  of  sun* 
Nature,  prodigal  in  her  seed-sow- 
ing, scattered  in  gorgeous  wan- 
tonness the  bright-hued  Coreopsis 
and  Butter-cup,  Yellow  Daisy,  and 
Evening  Glory* 

As  far  as  eye  could  see  flowers 
bright  and  gay! 

Wild  Peach  and  Plum  adorned 
the  road  and  an  occasional  Pussy 
Willow  shook  out  its  downy 
fingers.     There   were    Dogwood, 

50 


Wild  Sage  and  the  tall  Bear  Grass 
whose  beautiful  big  wax  bells 
looked  like  individual  egg  cups* 
Now  and  then  a  white  bloom  burst 
out  of  the  ground  lifting  in  all  its 
snow-white  purity  a  star-shaped 
head  unabashed  by  its  late  advent. 
Back  in  the  dank  corners  of  the 
wood  hid  the  lovely  Maiden  Hair* 
Spanish  Dagger,  stately  and  erect, 
stood  like  grim  sentinels  guarding 
the  way  that  led  to  this  wealth  of 
wild  spring  beauty  and  growing 
in  huge  clumps  the  Prickly  Cactus 
shielding  from  ruthless  hands  the 
Horned  Toad  or  making  safe  cover 
for  a  venomous  Centipede* 

"Look*  Papa."  cried  Gold, 
"that's  what  Auntie  Zoll  wants," 
pointing  to  a  prickly  plant.    "She 

51 


told  us  to  bring  her  one  of  the 
leaves*  What  does  she  want  with 
it,  Papa?" 

"To  care  Grandma  Palmer's 
rheumatism*" 

"Oh,  Papa,  dear,  with  all  those 
prickles!" 

Though  hard  to  manage  with  un- 
gloved hands,  the  father  soon  had 
a  sharp  stick  and  with  his  knife 
cut  from  the  main  stalk  one  of  the 
prickly  leaves,  while  explaining  to 
the  Child  the  curative  properties 
stored  away  in  this  seemingly 
worthless  shrub*  Underneath  its 
porcupine  aspect  hidden  between 
its  fretted  leaves  was  a  ropy  sub- 
stance, soft  and  glutinous.  In 
Auntie  Zolf s  magic  fingers  it  be- 
came a  soothing  poultice,  cool  and 

52 


velvety  to  the  fevered  parts  and 
wonderful  in  its  power  to  heaL 

"That's  like  'Beauty  and  the 
Beast/  Papa*  Don't  you  know 
when  the  fairy  touched  the  ugly 
old  bear  skin  and  claws  a  beautiful 
Prince  jumped  out?" 

"Yes.  little  daughter;  under 
many  a  rough  exterior  is  often 
found  a  heart  of  gold/' 

Leaving  Papa  at  the  foot,  Gold 
darted  to  the  very  top  of  the  Indian 
Mound,  where  the  glistening  rays 
of  the  evening  sun  fell  upon  her 
sunny  hair,  transforming  her  into 
an  apparition  of  light* 

That  far-away  look  crept  again  in- 
to the  soft  blue  eyes  as  she  stood 
atop  the  strange  old  Mound  listen- 

53 


ing  the  while  to  the  weird  cry  of  a 
WhippoorwiH  and  gazing  upon 
fields  of  fragrant  Blue  Bonnets  and 
great  stretches  of  Red  Blanket, 
whose  gorgeous  heads  of  red 
bracts  topped  twelve-footed  spikes 
looking  like  fairy  paint-brashes — 
all  waving  to  Gold  a  welcome, 
strong  and  deep  as  their  own  bright 
hue* 

Homeward  turned,  she  told 
anew  her  plan  for  the  Big  House  in 
China,  while  the  Chapperal  Cock 
with  its  handsome  mate  darted 
from  his  every  hiding-place,  while 
the  Plover  sprang  in  and  out  from 
the  tangled  Mesquite,  and  the 
Jack-rabbit  scurried  to  cover, 
frighting  away  a  graceful  Scissors- 
tail  as  it  shot  into  mid-air* 

54 


V 


V 

"Nor  shall  the  Marigold  unmen- 
tioned  die, 
"Which  Acis  found  in  Sicily; 
She  Phoebus  loves,  and  from  him 

draws  his  hue, 
And  ever  keeps  his  golden  beams 
in  view/' 

And  now  the  little  life  was  slip- 
ping away! 

The  fighting  hope  lay  in  the 
cruel  knife*  But  when  the  sunlight 
fell  into  the  darkened  room  the 
baby  sufferer  was  all  too  weak  and 
worn* 

"Goldie,"  said  the  kindly  Doctor 
bending  over  the  bedt  "let  me  see 
your  throat  once  more*" 

57 


Thoroughly  tired  out  now  by  the 
repeated  efforts  which  had  proved 
so  fruitless,  the  pretty  brown  head 
lay  motionless  on  the  white  pillow* 

"Look,  Goldie,  here  are  two 
more  nickels  for  your  Big  House/' 
urged  the  good  Doctor* 

Magic  words!  Bolt  upright  sat 
the  now  animate  figure,  and  reach- 
ing for  her  small  mirror  which  she 
kept  by  her  side  believing  it  ex- 
orcised some  kind  of  an  influence, 
she  opened  wide  the  tight  drawn 
mouth,  looking  all  the  while 
straight  at  her  own  image*  Then 
laying  down  the  celluloid  play- 
thing she  held  up  the  white, 
pinched  face,  and  leaned  eagerly 
toward  the  physician  as  if  im- 
ploring help* 

58 


"That'll  do,  little  one,"  said  the 
Doctor,  turning  away*  In  his  ex- 
perienced eye  could  be  seen  hope- 
lessness born  of  a  long  and  suc- 
cessful practice*  Realizing  human 
limitations  and  conscious  of  ina- 
bility to  cope  with  the  unconquer- 
able Foe,  he  stepped  back  and  with 
bowed  head  waited,  listening. 

The  Mother,  apprehensive,  grew 
alarmed!  A  chilly  blast  as  from 
some  icy  mountain  peak  swept  by. 
Drawing  the  Child  closer  she 
glanced  toward  the  door. 

But  the  door  was  fast. 

Ah!  How  could  holden  eyes  see 
that  Silent  Invader  as  he  entered 
slowly  but  with  authority  into  that 
hitherto  unbroken  circle? 

59 


The  anxious  father  with  bated 
breath,  stood  waiting,  waiting. 
Grand,  in  fur  coat  and  woolen 
mtrff  ler  knelt  by  the  little  one  call- 
ing softly,  "Mary-Gold,  Mary- 
Gold!"  Despite  the  biting  cold 
and  heavy  snow  he  had  driven  ten 
long  miles  to  answer  the  message, 
"Mary-Gold  is  dying. " 

Hashed  were  the  children's 
voices*  Silent  were  College  bells* 
To  the  Nursery  door  now  hobbled 
Cripple  Auguste,  no  longer  able  to 
stay  away*  Already  gathered 
round  the  threshold  were  Donald 
Carrick,  the  old  Scottish  fireman, 
who  loved  "right  weel  the  bonnie 
lass*"  And  there,  too,  came 
Mingcall,  the  College  cook,  and 
Gold's  old  nurse,  Chinquapin*    All 


60 


bowed  with  grief*  Breathless  they 
stood;  weeping,  waiting,  waiting 
for  the  opening  of  the  closed  door* 

Amidst  the  tense  silence  was 
heard  a  grating  sound,  hard  and 
metallic  as  Life  straggled  for  vic- 
tory urging  and  forcing  with  heart- 
breaking effort  the  now  weakened 
breath  through  the  tiny  throat  fast 
closing* 

The  Child,  conscious  of  some- 
thing happening  opened  her  dark 
blue  eyes  as  though  pleading  for 
protection  and  gazed  with  anxious 
questioning  into  eyes  that  had 
never  failed  her* 

Holding  close  the  small  figure 
there  came  to  the  Mother  a  real- 
izing of  the  utter  loneliness  of  the 

61 


soul  passing  through  the  Solitary 
Vale,  and  forgetting  her  own  an- 
guish with  instinctive  sympa- 
thy she  pressed  the  little  one 
closer  to  her  heart  softly  whisper- 
ing, "Sleep,  Baby-Gold,  Mother's 
here;  sleep,  my  baby,  never  fear/' 

Hope  had  gone.  In  its  place 
Resignation,  perfect  and  complete, 
warming  into  life  but  one  desire — 
the  desire  to  guide  the  baby  soul 
through  the  deepening  mists  to  the 
tender  arms  of  a  waiting  Father,  a 
Father  who  had  lent  for  five  prec- 
ious years  this  ray  of  light* 

There  she  lay,  clasping  in  her 
arms  her  beloved  Yan  Ma  La* 
The  fingers  of  her  right  hand  shut 
tight  as  if  holding  something 
precious* 

62 


And  now  the  room  seemed  filled 
with  Angelic  Messengers*  The 
rustle  of  angelic  robes  and  the  soft 
music  of  their  wings  floated  out 
upon  the  desolate  silence* 

Suddenly  the  little  one  clucked 
aloud*  strong  and  with  insistence* 
urging  on  as  it  were  an  Unseen 

Horse! 

"What  is  it,  Goldie?"  cried  the 
Mother.  "What  do  you  see?  Do 
you  want  to  go?" 

Instantly  and  with  supernatural 
strength  the  sunny  curls  shook 
from  side  to  side  and  in  a  faint* 
hoarse  whisper  she  pleaded: 

"  Baylor — Baylor — stay — stay — 
wiv — Papa — Mamma !  " — then — 
fainter    still    as    Angelic    hands 

63 


reached  lovingly  down  gathering 
her  to  their  hearts  the  choking 
voice  called  back: 

"And  —  Mamma,  —  keep  —  my 
money  I" 

The  tiny  hand  relaxed*  The 
death-damp  fingers  let  fall  two 
shining  nickels,  and  the  Mother 
felt  her  baby's  spirit  as  it  slid  from 
its  clayey  tabernacle  behind  the 
nebulous  veil  of  the  Invisible* 

Then  insistent  came  the  prayer: 

"She  lies  before  me  still  and  pale; 
the  roses  that  I  prayed 

Might  bloom  along  her  path  of 
life  are  on  her  bosom  laid* 

Crowned    with   a    strange,    rapt 
calm  she  lies 

64 


Like  one  made  dumb  by  sweet 
surprise* 

*  'Better  than  I  can  ask  or  dream/ 

this  was  my  prayer* 
And  now  that  she  is  lying  still  and 

pale,  with  God's  peace  on  her 

brow, 
I  wonder,  sobbing,  sore-dismayed 
If  THIS  be  THAT  for  which  I 

prayed*" 


65 


VI 


WHAT  THE 
ANGELS 


VI 

'  'Oh!     What  do  you  think  the 

angels  say?' 
Said  the  children  up  in  Heaven; 
'There's  a  dear  little  girl  coming 

home  to-day; 
She's  almost  ready  to  fly  away 
From  the  earth  we  used  to  live  in. 
Let  as  go  and  wait  by  the  gates  of 

pearl, 
Which  are  opened  wide  for  the 

dear  little  girl/ 
Said  the  children  up  in  Heaven* 


69 


"  'God  wanted  her  here  where  His 

little  ones  meet*, 
Said  the  children  up  in  Heaven; 
'She  shall  play  with  as  in  the 

golden  street. 
She  has  grown  too  fair,  she  has 

grown  too  sweet 
For  the  earth  we  used  to  live  in* 
She  needs  the  pure  light,  this 

dear  little  girl, 
That  gilds  this  side  of  the  gates 
of  pearl', 

Said  the  children  tip  in  Heaven* 


70 


'  'So  the  King  called  down  from 

His  glorious  throne'. 

Said  the  children  up  in  Heaven; 
'My  little  darling,  arise  and  come 
To   the   place   prepared   in   thy 

Father's  home, — 
The  home  that  my  children  live 


in* 


Then  let  us  stand  at  the  gates  of 

pearl, 
Ready  to  welcome  the  new  little 

girl', 
Said  the  children  up  in  Heaven* 


71 


*  'Far  down  on  earth  do  you  hear 

them  weep?' 

Said  the  children  up  in  Heaven ; 
Tor  the  dear  little  girl  who  has 

gone  to  sleep? 
The  shadows  fall  and  the  night 

clouds  sweep 
O'er  the  earth  we  used  to  live  in. 
But  we'll  watch  beside  the  gates 

of  pearl, 
Oh!    Why  do  they  weep  for  their 

dear  little  girl?' 
Said  the  children  up  in  Heaven. 


72 


*  'Fly  with  her  quickly,  yc  angels 
dear/ 

Said  the  children  up  in  Heaven; 

'See,  now  she  is  coming*     Oh! 
Look!    Look  there 

At  the  golden  light  on  her  sunny 
hair, 

Where    the    veiling    clouds    are 
riven! 

But  hush!     Hush!     Hush!     All 
the  swift  wings  furl! 

For  Jesus  himself  at  the  gates  of 
pearl 

Is  taking  her  hand,  dear  tired 
little  girl, 

And  leading  her  into  Heaven/  " 


73 


VII 


MEMORIA  IN 
a**    AETERNA   „» 


VII 

A  deep  shadow  fell  on  my  path 
last  Thursday,  January  the  twenty- 
first*  A  message  was  borne  to  me 
over  the  wires  that  Mary-Gold 
was  nearing  the  Dark  River* 

Only  a  few  days  before  I  had 
met  her  with  what  seemed  to  be 
a  slight  cold  and  hoarseness;  and 
only  two  nights  before  the  fond 
father,  dismissing  the  wearing 
cares  and  toils  of  his  position, 
joined  in  the  sports  of  the  three 
happy  children  in  a  home  which 
was  as  near  to  Paradise  as  any 
retreat  which  the  Father  gives  t*s 
in  oar  pilgrimage  here* 

77 


But  on  Wednesday  night  and 
Thursday  morning  the  disease 
made  rapid  progress  and  we  felt 
certain  that  the  angels  of  little 
children  were  hovering  to  bear 
another  pure  spirit  to  the  Garden 
of  the  Lord. 

But  just  before  she  left  us,  when, 
it  may  be,  she  saw  the  angels  who 
were  beckoning  her  away  from  her 
sufferings,  strength  was  given  her 
to  say  that  she  wanted  to  remain 
with  her  mother  and  father* 

We  laid  her  away  in  the  lot  of 
the  ex-president  near  those  whom 
she  loved — laid  her  away,  though 
she  looked  like  one  asleep,  as 
beautiful  as  ever — trying  as  we 
left  the  consecrated  spot  to  see  the 

78 


loving  hand  of  her  Saviour  beneath 
the  Shadow* 

Dear  Mary-Gold!  Her  life  of 
five  summers  was  a  benediction 
to  the  College*  Generous  to  a 
fault*  of  sweet  manners  and  win- 
ning ways,  she  was  the  favorite 
of  the  girls*  Her  sympathies  and 
tastes  were  beyond  her  years  and 
it  was  not  strange  that  I  antici- 
pated in  the  growth  of  the  beauti- 
ful child-character  a  princely 
womanhood* 


79 


'Such  are  my  wakeful  visions  all 
the  day, 

As  in  my  lonely  room  I  sit  and 
think 

Of  Mary-Gold,  the  daughter  of 
my  heart* 

Oh,  can  it  be  that  Faith  hath 
shown  me  these, 

The  pictures  of  my  darling, — can 

it  be, 
That  she  whom  I  so  loved  to 

teach  the  truth, 

In    love's    return    would    bring 
Heaven  near  to  me 

And  give  me  new  winged  hope 
to  bear  me  up 

Above   the   sorrows   of   my  pil- 
grimage? 


80 


c 


\ 


"But  Never  Mind,  Molotto." 


'Feign  would  I  have  it  thus.    It 
cannot  be 

That  she  so  pure  of  heart,  so  fond 

of  Him 
Who   loved   the   little    children, 

blessing  them. 
Is  now  unhappy  or  in  dreamless 

sleep, 
Waits  till  the  dead  arise*   It  must 

be  true 
That  Paradise  awaits  the  pure 

,    in  heart, 
The  pure  made  pure  by  His  re- 
deeming blood* 
Fll  take  the  sign  and  with  the 

peace  of  mind 
That  passes  knowledge,  wait  my 

summons  home*" 

— "GRAND." 

81 


<X\ 


vin 


"Because   of   one    small   lowlaid 
head  all  crowned 
With  golden  hair, 
Forevermore  all  fair  young  brows 
tome 

A  halo  wear: 
I  kiss   them   reverently*     Alas! 
I  know 
The  pain  I  bear* 

"Because  of  dear  but  close-shut 
holy  eyes, 

Of  heaven's  own  blue, 
All  little  eyes  do  fill  my  own  with 
tears 

"wTiat'er  their  hue: 
And,    motherly,     I     gaze     their 
innocent 

Clear  depths  into. 

85 


'Because  of  little  pallid  lips,  which 
once 

My  name  did  call, 

No  childish  voice  in  vain  appeal 
upon 

My  ears  doth  fall: 

I  count  it  all  my  joy  their  joys  to 
share 

And  sorrows  small* 

Because  of  little  dimpled  hands 
Which  folded  lie, 

All  little  hands  henceforth  to  me 
do  have 

A  pleading  cry; 

I  clasp  them  as  they  were  small 
wandering  birds 
Luted  home  to  fly* 

86 


'Because  of  little  death-cold  feet, 
for  earth's 

Rough  roads  unmeet 

Fd  journey  leagues  to  save  from 
sin  or  harm 
Such  little  feet, 

And  count  the  lowliest  service 
done  for  them 

So  sacred — sweet/' 


87 


VIII 

"The  rainbow  spans  the  darkest  s\y, 
And  Hope  points  brightly  to  the  morrow." 

The  first  shock  of  grief  over, 
the  flowers  withered  and  dry  hid- 
den away  with  the  childish  treas- 
ures, the  little  body  resting  by  the 
side  of  Jack,  Grand's  beloved  son, 
that  awful  weight  like  a  pall  over 
the  Mother's  heart  refused  to  be 
lifted. 

Was  not  all  now  changed?  Had 
there  not  come  into  Life  a  new 
meaning?  Had  there  not  been  a 
Revelation? 

Missing  that  fellowship  and 
strength  for  awhile  shared  and 
sustained  by  human  sympathy, 
Grief,  isolated  and  lone,  was  left 
to  mourn  her  sorrow*  That 
"peace  which  passeth  all  under- 


88 


standing"  was  not  yet  realized*  But 
ere  another  fortnight  had  gone,  in 
the  grey  stillness  of  the  morning, 
just  as  the  clock  was  striking  three 
the  Mother  awoke — awoke  with 
the  vision  of  a  Child  in  garments 
of  white,  encircled  by  hosts  of 
radiant  beings,  their  arms  filled 
with  flowers,  their  voices  making 
melody  with  a  heavenly  chorale, 
all  playing  and  dancing  with  won- 
der and  delight  around  the  little 
newcomer. 

Breathless  she  gazed  upon  the 
seraphic  face,  now  radiating  a 
happiness  and  contentment  un- 
rivalled by  anything  she  had  ever 
seen. 

As  she  listened  spellbound  there 
fell  upon  her  ear  angelic  music, 
and  gazing  upon  that  pure  and  sin- 

89 


less  band  she  saw  the  Child  in 
their  midst  raise  her  little  hands 
in  rapture  at  the  glorious  sight 
about  her*  Leaning  forward  she 
distinctly  heard  a  familiar  strain, 
"I  am  Thine,  O  Lord,  I  have  heard 

Thy  voice 
And  it  told  Thy  love  to  me; 
But  I  long  to  rise  in  the  arms  of 
faith 
And  be  closer  drawn  to  Thee/' 
and  peering  forth  into  that  fair 
Glory-land  of  "jasper  and  gold  and 
crystal"  she  saw  transfigured  be- 
fore her  very  eyes  her  own  little 
Mary-Gold. 

The  pall  was  lifted.  The  ache 
in  her  heart  was  stilled.  Peace 
untrammelled  now  entered  and  in 
its   wake   a   strength  and   solace 

90 


such  as  she  had  not  known  since 
the  little  one  fell  asleep* 

Luminous  now  with  a  celestial 
radiance  the  Mother  caught  again 
the  childish  refrain  pleading  for 
the  little  ones*  "Mamma — keep — 
my — money  I" 

Well  did  the  mother-heart  inter- 
pret her  child's  Purpose  in  commit- 
ting to  her  this  sacred  Trust — the 
Trust  of  the  two  "nickels/*  the 
"three-cent  piece  on  my  dollies 
dresser"  and  "those  eight  more 
nickels  in  my  bank/' 

It  was  the  story  of  the  "Baby 
Tower"  that  had  taken  such  hold 
upon  the  Child-heart — the  story 
Mary  Anderson  had  written  home 
from    China* 


91 


IX 


HEART  TO 
HEART 


IX 

"One  day  a  missionary  was  pass- 
ing along  the  street  in  Tungchow 
and  came  to  a  queer-looking  house. 

Hearing  sounds  like  a  child 
crying  he  drew  nearer  and  dis- 
tinctly heard  these  words: 

'Oh,  save  me!  Save  me!  The 
worms  are  eating  me  up!' 

There  was  no  door  to  the  one- 
roomed  hut  and  a  window  too  high 
to  reach.  Hurriedly  procuring  a 
ladder  the  window  was  soon 
gained.  On  putting  his  head  in 
he  was  nearly  stifled  by  the  awful 
stench  and  was  compelled  to  with- 
draw.     But  the  pitiful  cry,     'Oh, 

95 


save  me!  Save  me!  The  worms 
are  eating  me  up!'  urged  him  to 
return* 

Filling  his  nostrils  with  some 
sweet-scented  leaves  he  again  at- 
tempted to  enter* 

He  discovered  that  the  room 
was  only  a  deep,  dark  pit  and 
through  the  dim  light  he  dis- 
cerned something  moving  below* 

Hastily  descending  he  found  a 
little  child  about  four  years  old 
crawling  around  amidst  bones  and 
vermin* 

He  seized  the  little  creature  and 
hurried  to  the  fresh  air.  The 
child  was  covered  with  worms  and 
was  starved  and  frightened  almost 
to  death* 

96 


'Oh,  Zee  Here  Now,  Mistress  Merry  Gouldt!" 


The  missionary  searched  until 
he  found  the  mother,  whot  be- 
coming tired  of  the  child  because 
it  was  a  girl,  had  thrown  her  into 
the  Baby  Tower,  which  was  built 
on  the  outskirts  of  the  town  away 
from  the  police  authorities  and 
where  girl-babies  were  thrown  by 
their  own  mothers* 

"How  mammas  could  do  gat 
awful  fingL" 

"But,  Goldie,  some  of  them  are 
not  all  that  bad*  When  Miss 
Mary  told  Saam  Koo  about  Jesus 
she  went  to  loving  instead  of  kill- 
ing her  little  girl!" 

"Well,  why  don't  Miss  Mary 
tell  all  the  mammas  'bout  Jesus?" 

"Miss  Mary  can't  reach  them 
all,  my  darling,  and  it  takes  such 

97 


a  pile  of  money  to  send  away  over 
to  those  lands/' 

""Well,  I  des  wishes  wif  all  my 
heart  I  could  make  a  lot  of  money  I" 

With  a  womanliness  beyond  her 
years  and  an  earnestness  strange 
and  uncanny  in  its  persistence  did 
the  Child  make  a  Plan,  as  she 
called  it,  to  build  a  "Big  House" 
for  the  girls  whose  mothers  threw 
them  away*  She  seemed  pos- 
sessed with  that  one  thought* 


98 


X 


THE  LITTLE 
w     MOTHER     m. 


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Unlocking  the  doll-house  there 
was  found,  just  as  Gold  had  said 
on  her  dollies*  dresser,  "the  three- 
cent  piece  my  Daddy  gave  me." 

The  Little  Folk  of  the  house  lay 
sad  and  lone,  no  longer  able  to  be 
King  Edward  Sixth,  or  even 
Cinderella  since  the  Fairy  Mother 
had  flown  away*  Upstairs  and 
down  were  rooms  all  papered  and 
carpeted,  curtained  windows  and 
fancy  portieres*  There  were  ta- 
bles and  chairs,  beds  and  dressers, 
and  bookcases*  Beautifully  furn- 
ished in  all  its  appointments  was 


,0, 


this  miniature  house  even  down 
to  the  tiny  red  lock* 

Renato,  with  that  wealth  of 
black  hair  and  bright  eyes,  stood 
for  the  sad  times  in  Catholic 
Brazil*  Moloto  told  blood-curdling 
tales  of  the  Dark  Continent,  how 
the  natives  were  put  in  pits  and 
boiling  rice  poured  over  them  be- 
cause they  had  brought  the  "evil 
spirits/' 

In  the  Battatela  country  grey- 
haired  people,  nor  lame  nor  blind 
were  ever  seen.  As  old  age  came 
on  parents  were  eaten  by  their 
own  children  while  the  tree-tops 
were  ornamented  with  human 
skulls* 

102 


Then  there  were  Jose  and  Dona, 
bright  Cuban  dolls,  and  Zenobia, 
straight  and  strong-looking  Senor 
who  fascinated  Gold  with  fan- 
tastic tales  of  Mexico* 

Bat  her  treasure  was  Yan  Ma  La, 
Ambassador  from  the  far-away 
Court  of  the  Baby  Tower,  the 
Annunciator  of  Gold's  Big  House. 

Next  to  Yan  Ma  La  came  Molo- 
to,  for  in  'Loto's  country  the  little 
girls  ate  their  mothers,  while  in 
Yan  Ma  La's  the  mothers  threw 
away  their  own  little  girls* 

"But,  never  mind,  Moloto! 
When  I  make  my  money  I'll  send 
you  a  missionary  for  Mamma  says 

103 


gat    would    make    all    the    man- 
eaters  ran  away*" 

Rocking  Yan  Ma  La  to  sleep 
Gold  would  tell  of  the  "good 
times"  coming  for  the  girl-babies 
in  China* 

"No  children's  graves  in  China. 

The  missionaries  say; 
In  cruel  haste  and  silence 

They  put  those  buds  away; 
No  tomb-stones  mark  their  rest- 
ing-place 
To  keep  their  memory  sweet; 
Their  dust,  unknown  is  trodden 
By  many  careless  feet. 

104 


'No  children's  graves  in  China, 

That  land  of  heathen  gloom! 
They     deem     not     that     their 
spirits 
Will  live  beyond  the  tomb* 
No  little  coffin  holds  themt 

Like  to  a  downy  nest ; 
No  spotless  shroud  enfolds  them. 
Low  in  their  quiet  rest*" 


105 


, 


XI 


XI 

"The  seal  and  guerdon  of  wealth  untold 
We  clasp  in  the  wild  Marsh-Marigold." 

Fifty-three  cents! 

What  could  fifty-three  cents  do? 

When  they  laughed  at  Saint 
Theresa  who  wanted  to  build  a 
Great  Orphanage  and  had  but 
three  shillings  she  saidt 

"With  three  shillings  Theresa 
can  do  nothing.  But  WITH 
GOD  AND  THREE  SHILLINGS 
there  is  nothing  Theresa  can  not 

dor 

The  Child's  voice  seemed  call- 
ing from  the  skies, 

"Mamma — keep  my  money!" 

109 


The  solace  that  came  to  her  own 
heart  from  knowing  that  her  dar- 
ling was  safe  caused  her  to  think 
of  those  heathen  mothers  who 
were  denied  such  comfort* 

In  a  way  strange  and  surprising 
did  the  fifty-three  cents  begin  to 
grow* 

THEN  "two  nickels"  and  "eight 
more  nickels"  and  "my  Daddy's 
three-cent  piece."  But  nowt  look! 
A  Wondrous  Presence  in  and 
through  it  all  transmuting  Life  and 
Love  and  Sacrifice* 

Gold's  devoted  slave  was 
Auguste.  the  German  Cripple,  who 
for  hours  would  listen  to  the  seri- 
ous tones  of  the  Little  Maid  as 
she  confided  to  him  her  Plan* 
110 


"Oh,  zee  here,  now,  Mistress 
Merry-Gouldt!  You  vill  bleze  egs- 
cuse  me  but  you  do  mek  me  larf. 
Dat  is  too  funny,  I  do  know/' 

The  Devoted  Slave  lay  dying* 
For  months  he  had  been  down- 
cast and  dejected*  Missing  the 
bright  laughter  and  sweet  com- 
panionship of  his  child-friend  he 
had  gradually  failed* 

Was  it  not  she  who  had  saved 
him  from  a  pauper's  grave?  Had 
she  not  been  the  sweet  influence 
that  had  taken  him  from  the  Poor 
House  and  had  given  instead  a 
home,  making  it  possible  for  him 
to  earn  a  living? 

And  to-day  he  had  called  for 
Gold's  mother. 


111 


"You  zee"  said  Auguste,  plac- 
ing in  her  hand  a  worn,  \eaXhet 
pouch,  "I  bin  zavin'  dis  money 
for  de  leetle  Merry-Gouldt  to  help 
puilt  dat  Pig  House  vat  she  use 
touldt  me  pout*  And  now  I  go  to 
be  vid  her  and  de  Zaviour*  Mebbe 
you  understandt  vat  she  vould 
like." 

And  there  among  its  folds  lay 
fifty  gold  dollars* 
Sacrifice,  Toil,  Love! 


112 


XII 


THE  FULFILLMENT 


XII 

"Forgetting  all  the  sorrows  we  have  had 
Let  us  fold  away  our  fears 
And  put  by  our  foolish  tears, 

And  through  all  the  coming  years  just 
be  glad." 

As  Mamma's  little  house-wife, 
Gold  had  always  received  a  week- 
ly sum.  The  pay-day,  Saturday, 
was  still  kept  up*  Week  by  week 
the  amount  grew.  All  anniversa- 
ries were  kept  in  memory  of  the 
sweet  life  still  yielding  its  fragrance 
and  freshness* 

At  Christmas,  Gold's  stocking 
was  not  forgotten.  In  place  of 
toys  and  games,  fruits  and  candies, 
there  were  dainty  yellow  bags  of 
glittering  coin  for  all  of  her  friends 
knew  of  the  Big  House.    One  tiny 


C—*P> 


bag  of  soft  velvety  chamois  held  as 
many  gold  dollars  as  the  years  of 
the  little  life  would  have  been* 

Pardie's  lessons  in  stewardship 
became  contagious  giving  strength 
to  the  Mother's  Hope* 

Birthdays  and  Thanksgiving 
added  their  increase  to  the  Fund* 

One  anniversary,  alone,  yielded 
nothing* 

JANUARY  21  WAS  SACRED* 

On  that  day  every  year  a  dear 
old  Book  found  its  way  to  some 
restless,  unsatisfied  heart,  bring- 
ing Light  and  Life  and  Love,  its 
hallowed  pages  radiating  signifi- 
cant interest  because  of  the  in- 
scription: 

116 


IN  MEMORIAM 
LITTLE  GOLD 
EPH.  2:10  MATT.  6:33 

JOHN  3:16  ISA.  58:13 

BAYLOR 

JANUARY  21,  J892 

Steadily  the  Gold  Fund  grew* 

In  place  of  the  usual  Christmas 
doll  Aunt  Carrat  from  the  Blue 
Grass  Country,  sent  a  gold  piece* 
Girls  and  teachers  alike  claimed 
their    share* 

Strangers,  hearing  of  the 
Child's  Dream,  begged  a  part* 
Grand,  too,  did  not  forget  his 
"heart's  daughter/'  and  Uncle 
Joyner,  across  the  deep  blue  sea, 
added  his  gift. 

Dr*  Hammond,  once  more  re- 
stored to  health  and  vigor,  hearing 
of  the  little  one's  death,  recalled 

117 


the  peculiar  thrill  that  had  held 
him  while  shaping  the  mystic 
Acrostic* 

An  intense  spiritual  insight  had 
seemed  to  create  for  him  a  pano- 
ramic vision  of  the  Child's  cher- 
ished Plan*  So  obsessed  was  he 
that  like  John  on  the  Isle  of  Pat- 
mos  he  involuntarily  wrote — wrote 
as  by  a  compelling  Force,  trans- 
ferring into  the  smooth*  impres- 
sionable rock  the  strange  pre- 
monition that  had  seized  him* 

And  now  feeling  his  heart  burn 
within  him  his  mind  traveled  back 
to  a  pensive  little  face  yearning 
always  to  serve* 

The  simple  Acrostic  so  emblem- 
atic in  its  nature  he  had  given  to 
the  Child  with-holding  its  mournful 

118 


Import  so  curiously  engraved  up- 
on the  soft  cream-tinted  stone* 

Could  it  be  that  his  highly  sen- 
sitized vision  had  penetrated  the 
mysteries  of  the  Unknown?  Be 
that  as  it  may,  he  had  woven  into 
a  beautiful  message,  that  verified 
a  psychic  power,  the  striking  sym- 
bols, Minister,  Able,  Revealed, 
Youthful,  Glorified,  Odd,  Love, 
Dream: 

LOVE  revealed  and  glorified 
by  odd  dream  of  youthful  but  able 
minister* 

This  pledge  he  now  intrusted  to 
the  Mother  more  precious  in  her 
eyes  than  the  purest  marble  of 
Carrara,  and  accompanying  it  was 
a  handsome  sum  for  the  "Frau- 
lein's  Big  House/' 

119 


H/^i^tlV-T^ 


Faithful  Mingcall  and  the  lonely 
Chinquapin  contrived  to  save  so 
they  might  have  a  hand  in  "dat 
sweet  chile's  house*" 

The  sturdy  old  Scotchman,  too, 
was  not  behind  with  his  moity. 
"Na,  na,  ye're  no  to  think  I  dinna 
love  the  bit  lassie*  I  loved  her  as 
ane  of  my  ain  bairns/' 

But  a  Shut-in !  helpless  bent  and 
drawn  I  What  part  could  Grandma 
Palmer  hope  to  fill?  How  she  had 
loved  the  Child!  who  was  as  it 
were  like  "a  thread  of  gold  run- 
ning through  her  sombre  thoughts/ ' 

Doubly  sad  since  Auguste  had 
gone  where  crutches  and  crip- 
ples were  unknown — nothing  less 
than  an  individual  niche  in  the 

120 


Child's  Building  could  satisfy  the 
craving  in  her  desolate  heart* 

The  longing  in  a  human  soul 
that  burning  gathers  radiance  of 
furnace-glow,  rejecting  all  else  but 
this  one  single  need  never  fails  to 
awaken  and  call  forth  the  Re- 
sponse* 

A  group  of  Baylor  girls  wanting 
to  memorialize  the  little  life 
through  one  of  her  much  loved 
Chinese  straylings,  sought  counsel 
from  Mary  Anderson,  who  away 
over  in  the  Yellow  Kingdom  found 
just  the  thing  they  wanted* 
Near  the  Compound  lived  a  Chin- 
ese widow  who  though  possessor 
of  both  Silver  and  Gold  was  yet 
too  poor  to  properly  care  for  her 
two  little  girls*     So  while   Miss 

121 


Mary  told  her  of  the  Baylor  girls* 
plan  she  listened  and  at  last 
yielded  to  the  sweet  persuasion  of 
this  gentle  teacher,  for  this 
heathen  mother  loved  her  little 
daughters  and  hated  to  part  with 
either  of  them. 

For  the  sake  of  the  dear  name 
Silver's  baby  sister  would  have 
been  chosen  but  Baylor  girls  had 
asked  for  "the  sweetest  little  girl 
in  the  Celestial  Kingdom"  and  her 
Gold  had  a  heavy  alloy  of  bad  tem- 
per ♦  So  because  of  her  own  help- 
lessness and  still  more  because  of 
her  child's  sterling  worth  she  in- 
trusted to  their  keeping  her  dainty 
Silver  whot  however,  was  the  em- 
bodiment of  all  that  gold  stands 

122 


for  and  a  fitting  memorial  of  the 
Cafla  Vivo* 

And  now  running  over  to  tell 
Grandma  of  the  Silver  tie  that 
linked  their  hearts  to  the  absent 
Gold  they  found  the  poor  old  soul 
in  tears*  Not  long  were  they  in 
discovering  the  cause  and  in  their 
own  lovely  way  soon  had  more 
stunts  for  Grandma  than  she  could 
compass  in  a  year* 

A  basket  was  fitted  up  with 
needles  and  threads  of  all  sorts 
and  colors*  Into  this  basket  bits 
of  silk  and  satin  amber-hued*  yel- 
low threads  and  balls  of  orange- 
tinted  zephyr  found  their  way*  In 
her  deft  fingers  these  odds  and 
ends  became  things  of  worth  and 

123 


beauty  beguiling  these  same  girls 
who  were  ever  ready  to  share  their 
generous  pin-money  for  a  piece 
of  Grandma's  needle-work  of  "in- 
wrought gold/' 

Day  by  day  and  week  by  week 
did  she  knit  and  sew  as  the  girls 
ran  in  and  out  chatting  and  singing 
gaily  in  their  attempts  to  dispel 
the  gloom  settling  since  Mary- 
Gold  had  slipped  away^ 

Because  of  a  quaint  whim  in  the 
lonely  old  lady,  which  the  girls 
loved  to  humor,  there  was  always 
to  be  seen  on  the  table  near  her 
bed  a  small  earthen  jar  whose 
plain  brown  face  lit  up  with  the 
painted  glory  of  myriads  of  tiny 
marigolds,    and    into    this    queer 

124 


hiding-place  many  a  penny  found 
its  way  coaxed  there  by  the  thin 
piping  voice  pleading  for  the 
Child's  Plan. 

Jinny  Montaubyn,  as  she  lifted 
her  heart  in  the  grey  of  the  morn- 
mg»  "Speak,  Lord,  thy  servant 
'eareth"  was  never  happier  than 
this  Bruised  Reed  and  Smoking 
Flax,  as,  with  each  penny,  she 
breathed  a  prayer  that  the  little 
One's  Dream  might  be  realized* 
Grandma's  prayers  were  a  golden 
recompence,  as  old  Roger  Chilling- 
worth  said  to  the  Reverend  Mr* 
Dimmesdale,  "They  were  car- 
rent  gold  of  the  New  Jerusalem, 
with  the  King's  own  mint  mark 
on  them/' 


125 


Year  by  year  the  sum  advanced 
until  one  day  away  over  in  far 
Cathay,  the  bags  of  lifeless  gold 
were  changed  by  a  Midas  magic 
into  living,  pulsing  Love,  a  shelter 
for  neglected  Frailty* 

Over  the  very  spot  where  had 
been  the  Baby  Tower,  a  pit  of 
worms  and  vermin  that  fed  upon 
helpless  girl-babies,  there  was 
erected  Gold's  Big  House,  beauti- 
ful in  its  furnishings,  equipped 
with  all  that  appealed  to  the  tastes 
and  fancies  of  small  maids* 

With  that  lovely  sentiment  so 
like  Miss  Mary  the  "Little  Moth- 
er's" whole  family  as  by  a  wave  of 
some  enchanted  wand  had  been 


126 


sent  for*      Scores  of  almond-eyed 
maids  in  canning  little  trousers  and 
short  skirts  had  rushed  breathless- 
ly about  fitting  up  a  perfect  twin  to 
the  Baylor  doll-house*  adding  here 
and  there  gay  touches  of  Imperial 
Yellow,  so  even  the  long  rainy  days 
were  joy  and  gladness  to  the  little 
castaways.       Clasping     in     their 
chubby  arms  Renato.  Yan  Ma  La 
or   Zenobia   they   would    sit   en- 
thralled   while    Miss    Mary    told 
again  the  story  of  the  little  Ameri- 
can who  had  sent  love  and  sympa- 
thy to  their  lonely  days, — of  Calla 
Vivo  the  mystic  token  which  had 
opened  to  their  hungering  hearts 
the  Door  of  Life* 


The  passing  stranger  often 
paused,  wondering,  at  the  veiled 
meaning  in  the  golden  character 
above  the  portal: 


128 


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